Ashes to Ashes
by Boyfrom0z
Summary: Set in season 5  and later season 6 . While killing a demon, Dean is fatally injured. Castiel might be able to save him, but at what price. Warnings - character death and hints of Destiel
1. Chapter 1

_Set somewhere in season 5.

* * *

_

"Dean!" screamed Sam, falling to his knees at his brother's side. "Dean!"

Dean did not react. He just lay there, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his chest. They might have killed the demon, but in falling it had taken its revenge.

"Dean, come on. Dean! Don't do this to me, man." Sam looked around franticly, for something, anything, that might help save his brother. He could call an ambulance, but even if they weren't in the middle of nowhere, by the time any help arrived Dean would have long ago bled out.

"Dean, please. Hang on, Dean, just hang on."

"Sammy," whispered the older Winchester.

"I'm here, Dean. I'm here."

"Sammy." Dean's hand twitched as if trying to reach for his brother.

"I'm here," said Sam, taking Dean's hand and fighting back tears.

"Sammy, I- I- I'm sorry." Dean's eyes were sliding shut.

"No. No! Dean!"

Sam did not hear the flutter of wings behind him. Castiel had seen the laughing demon fading away and had been flitting through the area in search of the reason for its laughter.

"Move, Sam."

"Cas?"

"Move."

Sam reluctantly stepped away from his dying brother and Castiel knelt beside Dean.

"Knife," he said, holding out his hand.

"What?"

"Do you want me to save your brother or not?"

Sam wordlessly handed Castiel Ruby's knife.

The angel cut away the cloth around Dean's wound. He handed the weapon back to Sam and began to mutter spells in Enochian.

Sam watched over his brother's body as Castiel's hands and mouth began to glow while the rest of his body grew pale and somehow weak looking. As the light grew more and more intense, Sam had to look away, but he could hear Castiel still muttering in the angelic tongue.

"Sam," he said, raising blue eyes to Dean's brother.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'll be able to save him."

"Oh thank God."

"However, I won't survive it."

"What? No, Cas, we need you."

"No. Dean is far more important," said Castiel, speaking quickly. "Please tell Dean that I cared for him very much and that I'm sorry I couldn't help you two more."

"But Cas-."

"Tell him, Sam. Promise me."

"I will. Of course I will."

"Thank you."

Castiel bent low over Dean, pressing his hands to the hole in the human's chest and nearly touching Dean's lips with his. Still whispering Enochian magic, Castiel took all of his focused angelic power, from his grace to the energy spent keeping his vessel alive, and forced into Dean's still-warm body.

There was a burst of light and wind that nearly knocked Sam off his feet and Castiel's power flowed into Dean. His skin knit shut and angelic air filled his lungs.

Dean gasped, life back in his body, and Castiel crumpled to the ground.

Dean looked up and saw Sam, who quickly knelt beside him.

"Sammy? What happened?"

"Are you Okay?"

Dean slowly raised a hand to his chest and felt flawless skin beneath his tattered, blood-soaked shirt.

"I'm fine," he said, confused. "What happened?"

"Cas."

"Cas?" Dean followed his brother's gaze to the body lying beside him. "Cas!" Dean rolled over and half sat up to get a better look at his fallen friend. "What happened to him?"

"He saved you."

"Is he gunna be Okay?"

Sam was silent.

"Sammy?"

"I think he gave you his life."

"What do you mean?" asked Dean slowly, dreading the answer.

"He's- He's dead, Dean."

Dean stared at the angel's body in horror.

"No," he whispered. "No, Cas, no!"

Dean held a shaking hand in front of the mouth and nose he knew as Castiel's and felt nothing. Jimmy's body was empty and growing cold.

"Why?" whispered Dean, biting his lip and feeling tears stinging his eyes.

"He said you were more important."

"Cas."

"He wanted me to tell you something."

"What?" asked Dean, raising green eyes shining with tears to his brother.

"He wanted you to know that he really cared about you and that he was sorry he couldn't help us more."

Dean shut his eyes tightly, willing himself not to cry.

"I'm gunna go check on the Impala," said Sam, wanting to give his brother some space.

"The Impala?" If something had happened to his baby too-.

"She's fine, Dean. Just thought you'd like some space."

"Yeah," he replied thickly.

Sam turned and walked away, leaving his brother kneeling beside their friend's empty body.

Dean stared at Jimmy's discarded form, not knowing what to do or think. Finally, he began to speak, in a rough, shaky voice.

"Cas? Cas, I don't know if you can hear me or if you're even still anywhere; you never did tell us what happens to angels when they die, but, well, thank you. I wish you hadn't done it. I'm not more important than you, but thanks. I suppose someone's gotta look after Sammy, huh?" He ran a shaking hand over his face and then pressed his fist to his mouth, still fighting to suppress tears. "I really cared about you too, Cas, and I just hope you knew that. I don't know where you are now, but I hope you're somewhere and I hope its somewhere nice. Maybe angels get their own heaven? If you are in Heaven, I guess I won't be seeing you there when it's all over, but you never know, right?" Dean could feel himself breaking as it truly hit him that he would never see Castiel again. "Oh Cas, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. A lot of good that does, I know, but what else can I say?" He was crying now, hot tears coursing down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry, Cas, I'm sorry." Dean raised his eyes to the heavens. The clouds on the western horizon were stained blood red and the first stars were just starting to show above him. Was Cas somewhere up there or was he just _gone_?


	2. Chapter 2

Dean slowly got to his feet, wiping his eyes, and looked over at Sam, who stood leaning against the far side of the Impala, not watching his brother.

"Sammy?" he called, trying to keep his voice steady.

The younger Winchester looked around and returned to his brother's side.

"What now?" he asked, as he stood beside Dean, looking down at Castiel's dead vessel. "We can't just leave him here."

"Should we take him back to Jimmy's family?"

"No," said Sam. "They've been through enough. They need to move on. Or maybe they believe Jimmy's still alive somehow."

"Jimmy's gone. Jimmy's _been_ gone-."

"I know, but-."

"Yeah."

"So what do we do with him? What are we near?"

"Bobby's," said Dean after a moment of thought.

"You're right. It's only a couple of hours away. You want me to call him?"

"No, I'll do it," said Dean. He felt it was his duty to the angel.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Dean pulled out his phone and somehow hit the buttons, despite his trembling fingers. "Bobby?"

"Dean. What's is it?"

"Can we come to your place?"

"Sure. Where are you boys?"

"Only a few hours away."

"Then I'll look out for you two – or three. Is Cas with you?"

"That's the thing, Bobby."

"What, you lose him?"

"In a manor of speaking."

"Dean?" Bobby could hear in the young hunter's voice that something was wrong. "What happened?"

"It's Cas, Bobby. He's-."

"What, Dean?"

"Cas is dead, Bobby."

There was silence on the other end. Bobby had gotten this call many times before, but he had never expected it about the stick-in-the-mud angel and he could hear from Dean's voice how much his young friend was hurting.

"What happened?"

"He gave me his life."

"What?"

"I was dying and Cas gave me his life. He saved me."

"I see."

"Can we burry him at your place, Bobby? So we know where he is?"

"'Course you can."

"Right. See you soon."

"Yeah."

"And thanks."

"Sure, Dean."

Dean hung up and turned his attention to Castiel's body.

"Put him in the back seat, I guess."

Sam nodded.

Dean bent over the body and pulled it up into his arms. It was surprisingly light, as if Cas leaving it had caused it to lighten somehow, but Dean guessed it was just that Cas never ate. He awkwardly cradled the body to his chest and followed Sam back to the Impala. Sam opened the back down and helped Dean maneuver Cas's body in the car.

"You want me to drive?" he asked, not sure his brother was fit to go behind the wheel.

"No, I'll drive."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It'll give me something to focus on."


	3. Chapter 3

Dean drove into the gathering darkness at a speed much higher than the legal limit allowed. They traveled in silence, Sam occasionally looking back at Cas's body or over at his brother, Dean's eyes never leaving the road. When they reached Bobby's house at nearly one in the morning, their friend came out to meet them in the yard.

"Hey, Bobby," said Sam, getting out of the car.

"Sam."

"Bobby."

"Dean." Bobby's eyes flickered to the body in the back seat. Castiel was not the first brought here by emotionally repressed hunters who wanted to lay their friend to rest somewhere they could come back and visit. "You boys should come inside."

"What about him?" asked Dean.

"You can't leave him out here. Bring him in too."

Sam helped get Castiel's body out of the Impala and into Dean's arms and they followed Bobby inside. Dean laid Cas on the bed that was still set up in the living room.

The three humans looked at the dead angel in silence.

"Can I get you two anything or you just want to sleep?"

"Sleep, I think," said Sam.

"Go on upstairs, then."

Sam nodded, rested a hand on Dean's shoulder for a moment and then left.

Bobby looked sadly at Dean, remembering how it had felt to lose John and, to his slight surprise, how it had felt to lose his beloved wife. He knew there was nothing to be said that could ease the kind of agony that was consuming Dean and that only time could start to dull the pain even if the wounds would never truly heal.

"Help yourself to whatever," he told the young hunter, "and try to get some sleep."

"Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby nodded and followed Sam upstairs, knowing that Dean would not leave the angel's side.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean poured himself several drinks and eventually started to fall sleep sitting on the floor with his head leaning against the bed on which his dead friend's body lay.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Dean jerked awake at the voice.

"Looks like the dream team's down a member."

"Piss off, Crowley," said Dean as he got unsteadily to his feet.

"Are you sure you want me to?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to douse you in holy water?" asked Dean, reaching for the bottle on Bobby's desk.

"Now why would you want to do a thing like that when I'm one of the only people who can help you?"

"What?" Dean whispered hoarsely.

"Cross-roads demon, remember? I can get you _anything_ you want. Even your feathery little friend."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

Dean looked at Castiel's cold body. It was tempting. It was so tempting.

"You can bring him back."

"I can."

"And all it takes is my soul."

"You know the rules, Dean."

Dean wanted to say yes. He wanted to so badly, but he could not. Castiel had given up his life to save him, to keep him alive and out of Hell. He could not throw that sacrifice away. He could not disrespect his friend like that.

"So what do you say? Do you want the feather duster back?"

"I can't."

"You can't? Of course you can. No one eve need know you did it. You'll probably be dead in ten years anyway." He shrugged.

"Cas _died_ for me. I can't throw that away."

"He died for you and you're not willing to give up a little thing like your soul for him? Tut tut, Dean. That's not very fair, now is it?"

"He wouldn't want me to do this."

"You think he _wants_ to be dead?"

"I think he wanted to protect me. I'm not going to dishonor him by making a deal with a demon like you."

"Fine. I just thought you'd want him back."

"I do." Dean hadn't meant to speak the words aloud, but they had come out anyway.

"Then say "yes," Dean."

It would be so easy and Dean knew it. He wanted to do it. He just had to say "yes" (and kiss Crowley) and he could have Castiel back. And Crowley was right. The chances that he would still be alive in ten years were minuscule, negligible. Even if he did somehow survive the apocalypse, there was just no way he would make it another ten years. But Cas could. If he just said "yes" to Crowley, Cas could live. Cas was an angel; there was no reason for him not to live forever.

But no. No, he couldn't do it. For one thing, what would he tell Cas? There was no way he'd be able to bring himself to tell the angel what he'd done. And for another, Sam was counting on him; hell, the whole world was counting on him, they just didn't know it. He couldn't do this. He was needed and Cas would never forgive him.

"I can't."

"Are you sure?"

"Get out," said Dean in a low voice.

"You want him dead?"

"Get out or I swear to God I will kill you right here and now. I don't care whose side you're on. You're a demon and you'll leave or you'll be a dead demon."

Crowley shrugged, but left Dean to his grief and his bottle.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Sam and Bobby found Dean where they'd expected to: asleep on the floor, having slid down from sitting against the bed, with a near-empty bottle and an overturned glass at his side. Sam made to wake his brother, but Bobby stopped him.

"Let him sleep."

However, it was only half an hour or so later that Dean awoke. He looked around, disorientated, a dream he could not quite remember still hanging around him. Then he raised his eyes to Cas's body and it all came rushing back.

"Oh, you're awake," said Sam, who'd come in to check on his brother. "Hey," he said, bending to examine something on the floor. "Is this sulfur?"

"Probably," said Dean, getting to his feet and stretching.

"What?"

"Crowley was here last night."

Sam stared at him.

"He offered to bring Cas back." Dean tried to sound casual, but Sam could see the anguish in his eyes.

"For your soul?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't-?"

"Does it look like I did?" snapped Dean. He sighed. "Sorry." He turned away from his brother to the pale body on the bed. "I almost did it, Sammy. I wanted to do it." He bit his lip, trying to not break down again. "But I knew he wouldn't want me to. And someone's gotta take care of you, right?"

"Sure, Dean."

"You boys ready?" asked Bobby, not realizing he was walking in at such a bad time.

Dean quickly wiped his eyes and turned to face them.

"Yeah."

"It's all ready," said Sam. "We did it this morning, figured you didn't need to be digging."

"Right."

"Do you want me to-?"

"No. I'll do it."

For the last time, Dean lifted Castiel's body into his arms. He followed Sam and Bobby outside to the place they had prepared to lay the angel's body to rest. Dean stared down into the dark hole wishing they had a coffin or something, but there was no time for that; they had to save the world, after all. He looked at Sam and Bobby who had rigged up a small wooden platform with which to lower Castiel's body into the earth. Dean gently laid it down on the rough wood, but did not straighten up at once. Sam and Bobby looked away discreetly as Dean smoothed Castiel's trench coat and then laid a hand on the cold cheek and closed his eyes tightly, a single tear falling onto the angel's dead face. Then he got to his feet and the three humans lowered the angel's empty body into the ground.

Bobby and Sam had already spoken about what was best for Dean and knew that they should each say a few words and then leave Dean to say good-bye to his angel before they filled in the grave. Dean should not have to see the earth swallow up Castiel. Sam too was awash in shock and grief over the death of the angel, but he knew his brother had been closer to Castiel, that they had shared something the younger Winchester could not quite name.

Bobby cleared his throat awkwardly and took a step towards the grave.

"Well," he said. "Thanks for looking out for these two igits. I don't know what happens to angels when they die, but I'm sure you're somewhere better than here." Not knowing what else to say, Bobby left it at that.

Sam stepped forward now, looking down into the dark hole at the angel's body.

"Thanks, Cas. I don't know what I'd have done without him. You did so much for us and we never did a thing for you and I'm sorry. I wish there was something-." He stopped and shook his head. "I guess we should say some prayers or something since we're burying an angel and all, but I can't really say that I know any. I just hope that you are somewhere better, Cas, and that maybe someday we'll see you there." He sighed. "Just thank you for saving Dean – both times." He backed away, looking at his brother to see if Dean wanted them to leave, but Dean gave no indication as he stepped forward to speak.

"I guess this is it, huh Cas?" he began, seemingly oblivious of Sam and Bobby who stood in silence together a few yards back. "I- I'm sorry, Cas. I really am. I'm not more important than you. I'm just another human and don't care what they're saying about me being Michael's vessel, I'm not worth the life of an angel, especially not you. I'm just not, Cas. I'm not worth anyone's life. I'm not a good person; I'm a killer. Maybe I kill demons and monsters and shit, but I'm still a killer. I didn't deserve to be saved the first time, let alone a second time. And I didn't deserve _you_, Cas, I never did. I've known a lot of people in my time, but never anyone like you. And I don't just mean an angel 'cause we've met more of them and most of 'em were dicks, but not you, Cas. You were different and I never knew why. I never asked. And Sammy's right. I'm sorry we never did anything for you. Sorry _I_ never did anything for you." He stopped and took a deep, calming breath. "Cas, I wish I'd said yes to him, I really do, but I know you wouldn't have wanted me to. That's the only reason I didn't do it, Cas. It's not that I don't want you back, that I wouldn't give up my soul for you, but I knew you wouldn't want it – not that way. I just wish there was another way. God must be gone, Cas, or he wouldn't have let this happen. I mean, if God's not watching out for the angels, then who the hell is? You'd think he'd look out for you guys, but I guess he really doesn't give a crap anymore." Dean paused again to collect himself. He was rambling and he knew it. He was just talking to try to put off the moment when they'd cover Castiel with earth and it would all be over. Sure, there was always that chance. _He'd_ come back from the dead himself, but what angel would save Cas? Could an angel bring him back? Was he even anywhere to be brought back from? Dean looked down into the grave and, trying to hold back tears, finished his strange eulogy. "Thanks for everything, for my life and for all your help and for just being there for us. I'm gunna miss you, Cas. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I-. I love you," he finished in a whisper that Sam and Bobby couldn't hear.

Dean stepped back from the grave and Sam approached him cautiously. He silently offered his brother a flower to drop in the hole and Dean accepted it. He approached the grave once again and let the single white bloom fall down into the darkness where it landed gently on the angel's chest. Then Dean turned to where the shovels Sam and Bobby had used to dig the grave still lay.

"You don't have to do that, Dean," said Sam.

"No. I want to do it. You and Bobby go back inside. See if you can't rustle up another case."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Sam nodded and went over to Bobby to relay Dean's message. Bobby sighed, but understood and went back to the house with Sam, leaving Dean to cover the angel's body with earth.

Dean picked up a shovel and scooped up a load of dirt.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," he said and poured the earth onto Castiel's body.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was silent as he filled in the grave and when he returned to the house hours later, he did not speak until he'd washed his hands of dirt in the kitchen sink.

"Find anything?"

"Maybe. A bunch of disappearances in this little town in Texas. Haven't been any major crimes there in years and now this. And there were all widowers."

"Let's go check it out."

"You sure?"

"'Course. You ready?"

"Yeah."

"You boys want lunch?"

"Not me," said Dean.

Sam shrugged and shook his head.

"Well, I guess I'll see you two around."

"Yeah, see you Bobby," said Sam.

Dean nodded and said, "thanks."

"Sure thing. I'll mark it."

"Thanks."

Bobby watched the two young hunters go to the car, Sam insisting he drive and Dean craving in easily. He knew Sam was in pain, but he also knew Dean was beyond pain, beyond heartbreak. He wished he could do something to stop their suffering; those boys had been through more than anyone twice their age ever should. He sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do. Bobby raised a hand in farewell before going to call a friend of his who did stone work.


	7. Chapter 7

_We've skipped ahead and are now in an alternate time-line of season 6 (not 7. Why did I say 7?).

* * *

_

Over a year later, after it was all over, after they'd stopped the apocalypse and after they'd lost Sammy, Dean told Lisa that he was going to visit an old friend and, having secured a promise that it wasn't a job, she kissed him good-bye for the weekend.

Bobby was more than a little surprised when he opened his door and saw Dean Winchester, the supposedly ex-hunter, on his porch.

"Dean," he said blankly.

"Hey Bobby."

The two men embraced tightly. They had not seen each other since Dean had started living with Lisa.

"How you holdin' up?" Bobby asked, holding Dean at arm's length to look at him.

"Not great," said Dean truthfully. It felt good to finally admit, even to a small degree, just how utterly screwed up he was.

"You wanna come in and have a drink?" asked Bobby, releasing Dean and holding the door open for him.

"Actually, I, uh, I was gunna visit Cas first, if that's Okay."

"I ain't gunna stop you. Come in when you're ready."

"Thanks, Bobby."

Dean went back to the truck, retrieved a now slightly wilted bunch of flowers and walked slowly to the gravesite.

Bobby had erected a simple marker at the head of the grave.

_Castiel._

_ Angel, Hunter, Friend_

Dean lay the flowers against the headstone.

"Hey Cas. It's me, Dean," he said, feeling kind of stupid for talking to the grave, but also feeling that he should and, in some secret part of him, hoping that it would somehow ease the pain, if only a little. "We did it, Cas. We stopped the apocalypse and sent Lucifer back to Hell. Of course, we, um, we lost Sam doin' it. And Michael, but who cares about that bastard, huh? I'm living with Lisa and Ben now – or at least trying to – 'cause I promised Sammy I would give it up. It's hard, Cas, it's really hard." The words were starting to flow more freely now and while speaking his buried emotions didn't stop the pain, voicing his feelings did make them just the tiniest bit easier to bear. "I still can't believe he's gone. Whenever my phone rings, I keep expecting it to be him. It seems like I've spent my whole life doing two things: hunting and looking after Sammy and now I not doing either of 'em and I failed at the one that really mattered. There'll always be more hunters, but Sammy-. I wish there'd been another way – any other way. I miss him so much, Cas. And I miss you too. I wish things could just be the way they were, you know?" He sighed. "I shouldn't be with Lisa. I'm not good for her or Ben. But I promised Sammy I'd try. So here I am, trying my damnedest to live the life _he_ always wanted, only without the whole college education thing, and I can't do it, Cas, I just can't do it. I'm a wreck. I'm a fucking wreck. I wish I could just get in the Impala and go and hunt until it kills me, but I promised Sammy I'd try to live a normal life. I don't want to live, Cas. Some days I wish-." His voice broke and he bit back tears. "Some days I wish you hadn't saved me." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm living for Sammy's memory, for a promise I made to a dead man. That can't be healthy, right? I should be living for Lisa and Ben, but I just can't. I don't know how much longer I can do this, Cas." Dean dropped slowly to his knees as all the tears he'd suppressed since Sam's death burst from his chest. "I just want it to be over, Cas. When is it gunna be over?"

Bobby could see Dean from the upper windows of the house. He knew how long Dean had driven to talk to a grave and he wished that he could ease Dean's pain. He pulled out his phone and called a number Dean didn't have.

"Bobby? What's up?"

"You have to tell him, Sam," said Bobby, cutting straight to the point.

"I can't, Bobby. I have to let him live."

"But he ain't living, he's dying."

"What?"

"He's here now. He drove all this way to visit Cas. He's a mess, Sam. He wasn't cut out for that life and you know it, but he's forcing himself to live it because _you_ asked him to. It's only a matter of time before he cracks."

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"You'll _think_ about it? Sam Winchester, I want you to get your ass down here _tonight_ and talk to your brother."

"I can't, Bobby. Not tonight."

"Do you want him to die?"

"I'll do what I can. Don't tell him. I've got to go."

"Sam, don't you-!" But it was too late; Sam had hung up.

Bobby sighed. Dean had to know, but Sam had to be the one to tell him – or, rather, show him. He looked out the window at the distant figure of the older Winchester brother kneeling on the angel's grave and wished with all his heart he could do something for the poor boy.

"Why am I here, Cas?" asked Dean once his sobs had subsided somewhat. "Why did I come here? To bring you flowers or because I thought that somehow something would have changed – that I'd somehow get you or Sammy back if I wished for it hard enough? Well, I don't think I could be wishing any harder. I need you, Cas, and I need Sammy. I always thought I was a loner at heart, but I guess I was wrong. I can't live like this. It's killing me, Cas. It's fucking killing me!" Dean raised his eyes to the heavens and felt his heart burning. "God, bring them back to me!" It wasn't meant to be a prayer; it wasn't meant to be anything. It was just an anguished cry bursting free from a broken man who had long since lost all hope of ever truly living again. Dean Winchester was just existing until he was allowed to die.


	8. Chapter 8

_This is a direct continuation of the last chapter.

* * *

_

"Dean."

Dean shook his head, tears still running down his cheeks. Now he was hearing voices, great.

"Dean?"

"Damnit!" cried Dean, unable to bear the phantom sound of Castiel's voice. "See if I bring you flowers again!"

"This isn't about the flowers."

"Oh god, I really am going crazy." His head fell into his hands, but for some reason he decided to go with it. Maybe talking to his hallucination of Cas's voice would help somehow.

"No, you're not."

"Sure. Whatever. So did you catch all of that?"

"No."

"Oh. Maybe that's for the best. I said some pretty intense shit."

"Your brother's alive, Dean."

"Okay, that's really pushing it. No. I'm done. No more hallucination."

"You're not hallucinating."

"That's what they all say, right?"

"Dean."

"No. This isn't real."

"Yes, it is," said the angel's patient voice.

"No! You're dead!" shouted Dean through a throat constricted once again by tears. "You're dead."

"Dean, look at me. Please."

Even if it was just a figment of his distraught imagination, Dean could not resist that voice. He turned and slowly raised his eyes and there behind him, with a look of gentle concern on his face, stood Castiel.

"Cas?"

"It's me, Dean."

"No. It can't be you. Either I'm crazy or you're a demon."

"Could a demon do this?" Castiel raised two fingers to a half-healed cut on Dean's forehead.

The human started to flinch instinctively away, but the fingers touch his skin, soft and warm, and Dean could feel himself healing. Castiel lowered his hand and Dean touched the spot, but the cut was gone.

"Cas."

"It's me, Dean," he said again.

"How?"

"I don't know. God?"

"How long?"

Castiel shrugged and shook his head.

"Moments," he replied.

Dean thought for a minute, trying to figure out why God might have brought Castiel back now of all times. Then he remembered his desperate cry.

"You mean, all I had to do this whole damn time to get you back was call out to God? All I had to do was pray?"

"I don't know."

"What you said about Sam-?"

"It's true. I don't know how. I don't even know how I know it, but I know it's true."

"I've got to find him."

"I know."

Castiel held out a hand to Dean, who reached up, shaking slightly, and took it. The angel pulled the human to his feet.

"So what else do you know?"

Castiel's eyes darted back and forth for a moment, before settling on Dean.

"Everything."

"What?"

"I don't _know_, Dean. I wish I did."

"I guess we should go back inside," said Dean, who was staring at Castiel's hand holding his.

Castiel nodded and let go, feeling inexplicably uncomfortable.

Dean led the way back the house and let himself inside, Cas following just behind him.

"Bobby?"

"In here."

"Just as a warning, this may give you a heart attack."

Bobby sighed, thinking that Sam actually had called his brother. He was not looking forward to admitting to Dean that he'd known all along that Sam wasn't dead.

Dean went into the living room, his eyes still red and his face still wet with tears. Castiel followed.

"Holy-!" cried Bobby, jumping to his feet and knocking his chair over. "Cas?"

"Yes."

"How the hell-?"

"I don't know. I suspect God."

"You suspect-?"

"Yes."

"And he says Sam's alive," Dean cut in.

Bobby looked away.

"Bobby?"

"Is that what he says?"

"What? You don't believe him?"

"No, I do."

Dean stared at Bobby for a moment before realization crashed into him.

"You knew. How long have you known?"

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"Answer the question, Bobby!"

"Pretty much the whole time."

"And how long is that?"

"'Bout a year,"

"You mean he's been back almost this whole time?"

"I'm sorry, Dean, but he made me promise not to tell you. We were both keeping promises to him."

Dean could feel the fury tearing at him, but he stood still, rooted to the spot and unable to act.

"Dean," said Castiel. "Come with me. We're going to find your brother."

"You know where he is?"

"No. You are both still hidden from angels, but I think we know someone who can tell us the way."

Bobby nodded. "I told him he had to tell you. I don't know how many times I told him that, but you know Sam, he won't listen."

"Where are we headed?" asked Dean, ignoring Bobby's justifications.

Bobby explained how to go to reach Sam.

"Well, thanks, I guess."

"You've got to try to forgive him, Dean."

"I'll _try_. Come on, Cas."

Castiel followed Dean out into the yard to where he'd parked.

"Dean, where is your car?" he asked frowning.

"Here," said Dean, who was half into the truck already.

"That is not your car."

Dean stopped and looked at the truck.

"You're right. It's not." If he was going back to the life, he was going to have to do it properly. "You mind if we swing by Lisa's?"

"Maybe it would be best if I met you there after you've had time to talk to her."

Dean nodded. "Good point. I'll see you later then, Cas."

"Alright."

"And Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Keep the appointment." He tried to sound causal, but he was so afraid that the angel would vanish and leave him alone again or that it was all a just dream.

"Of course, Dean."

* * *

_A/N: I know Cas says Dean's name way too often, but that's how he talks in my head. (Maybe he does it in the show too? I'm not sure.) I just think he enjoys saying Dean's name for some reason._


	9. Chapter 9

Dean's talk with Lisa was one of the hardest and most painful things he'd ever had to do in his life, but he did it and she understood as much as she could. That was all he could ask for.

"Just come back in one piece."

He nodded, slung his bag over his shoulder, and went into the garage.

He knew he should feel horribly guilty for leaving her like this, but at that moment he simply could not feel one more emotion. He was already in too much turmoil to even begin to understand his own feelings. Everything his soul had yearned for so desperately for the past year had suddenly been restored to him or would be as soon as he was reunited with his brother and yet "happy" or even "euphoric" could not describe his current feelings. He was happy, yes, overjoyed beyond belief, but he was also filled with innumerable other feelings. He was furious at both Sam and Bobby for lying to him. He was at peace with returning to his baby and the open road. He was frightened about what state he would find Sam in. He was elated to have Castiel returned to his side, but at the same time he was confused about why he was so much more than simply happy at the angel's return. All these feelings and a thousand more swirled inside Dean as he left the life Sam had forced on him for the one he knew and, in some strange way, loved.

And Castiel was waiting for him.

Dean whipped the cloth off the Impala and there was his gleaming baby and for a moment all the other feelings were put at bay by the thrill of anticipation at the thought of truly returning to the life with Sam and Cas.

"Right," Dean said, looking over the roof of the Impala at the angel. "Let's go find that idiot brother of mine."

* * *

_Starting to reunite with the canon and come in for a landing_


	10. Chapter 10

"This is it?" asked Dean, looking through the darkness at the compound they'd pulled up in front of.

"It would seem so," said Castiel.

A man with a gun approached the car and Dean rolled down his window.

"What do you want?" asked the man, eyeing the Impala as if he'd heard of it before.

"I'm looking for my brother. For Sam," said Dean, his eyes silently daring the man to challenge his right to be there.

The man looked suddenly very uncomfortable. He hurried over to another man who was also guarding the gate that night and had a whispered conversation.

"They know you aren't supposed to know about Sam," Castiel observed quietly.

"Yeah."

The man returned and waved them through the gate after the second man had opened it.

Dean drove slowly through the gate, which clanged shut behind them. He pulled up behind a weird little black sports car that, for some reason, he took an instant disliking to. The human and the angel got out of the Impala and looked warily around.

"I don't like this," said Castiel suddenly right behind Dean.

"Holy-! Don't _do_ that, Cas."

"My apologies."

"It's really gunna be him?" the hunter asked, his low voice suddenly infused with deep trepidation. If Castiel was wrong-. If it wasn't Sam-. He didn't think he could take it.

"Yes," the angel assured him. "Holy water and silver are not required, though I suspect he will attempt to prove himself to you."

Dean nodded. Cas was probably right.

The front door of the house before them opened and there, framed in the glowing rectangle, was a tall, lankly silhouette that was unmistakably the frame of Sam Winchester.

Dean stared at his brother, unable to move or even react. The sight of his brother alive had thrown him into utter turmoil. This was want he had wanted more than anything else for almost a year now, but Sam had hid from him, lied to him. Dean didn't know if he should be happy or sad or angry or something else entirely. He felt Casitel lay a hand on his shoulder and he looked back at the angel who nodded at him, silently reassuring him that it truly was his brother.

"Sammy?" he said, his voice threatening to break.

"Hey Dean."

For a minute the two brothers stood frozen; then, at the same instant, they broke free from whatever was holding them back and, moments later, they were embracing.

"Sammy."

"Dean. Dean, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Once they broke apart, Sam looked over at the Impala and saw Castiel standing there uncertainly. He had been so focused on his brother that he hadn't even noticed the angel yet.

"Cas?" he said.

"Yeah. Cas is back too."

"When?"

"Today. Or maybe yesterday. It's been a really long day." Dean sighed. "What the hell is going on, Sammy?"

"Come inside. I'll explain everything. To both of you."

Dean knew he should be mad; it was his nature to be mad, but he was just too tired. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since long before the apocalypse and the past day or so had been the most emotionally draining thing since the day he'd lost Sam, maybe even in his whole life. Still, he slung an arm around his brother's shoulders and together they went inside, Castiel following along behind them and for a moment Dean could almost believe that things were back to normal. However, there were more unsettling shocks in store for the older Winchester and his angel that night.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: I skipped over the explanations since I figure if you're reading this then you know all that stuff.

* * *

_

As glad as he was to be reunited with Sam, it was a relief to Dean when Samuel insisted that Sam find Dean a place to sleep. He was sitting on the small cot, pulling off his boots when a flutter of wings announced Castiel's arrival in the dingy room.

"Hey Cas," said Dean, not looking up.

"Dean." Castiel stood in silence for a moment. "Are you alright?"

"No, but now I think I just might be."

"Good."

"So you sticking around?" the hunter asked, setting aside his boots and looking up at the angel.

"I wish I could, Dean. I owe you my life."

"Hey, right back at you."

"You owe me nothing, Dean," said Castiel quietly, lowering his bright blue eyes to the ground.

"Cas."

"Dean, I have to leave you. I'm sorry, but since Michael fell into the Pit, I have to return to Heaven. It's my duty. Just as your duty is here."

"Whoa, this mess is _not_ my duty. Gettin' Sammy the hell outta here and back on the road, that's more my thing."

"So you understand then?"

Dean nodded slowly.

"I don't want you to leave, Cas," he quietly told his boots.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I wish I could stay."

"I know. It's Okay. Just don't stay away too long, alright?"

"Of course."

Dean expected Castiel to simply vanish as always, but instead he did something he had never done before. As the angel's wings lifted him away into a realm Dean could not see, he felt soft, warm feathers brush against him and he somehow knew it was no accident. He also knew that what he'd felt was something deeply personal and sacred, something no one before had ever been allowed to feel. He hoped Cas's idea of not too long was short.


	12. Chapter 12

"So Cas went back to Heaven, just like that?" Sam asked late the next morning.

"Yeah, but he'll be back. We've all got our duties, right?"

"_Duty_?" said Sam incredulously. "Since when do you care about duty?"

"Okay, maybe not duty, but we've all got jobs to do."

"And what's your "job," Dean?" asked Sam.

Dean made a face and thought for a moment.

"Two things. One, get you the hell outta this place."

"Wait a-."

"And two," continued Dean loudly, talking over his brother, "kill as many evil sons of bitches as I can. Starting with this one," he said showing Sam an article he'd found that morning. "Cop liquefied into a puddle of bloody goo in the locker room."

"That's disgusting."

"Yeah, you're telling me. Just be glad there isn't a picture." He grimaced. "So whadya say, Sammy? You ready to blow this place?"

"They're our family, Dean."

"No, _we're_ our family and I, for one, don't want it any other way."

"What about Cas?" asked Sam, half joking, half seriously wondering about his brother's relationship with the angel.

"Cas is more like a next-door neighbor," said Dean, who found himself inexplicably uncomfortable with the idea of Cas being _family._

"We must live in one fucked up neighborhood."

Dean shrugged. His efforts to be lighthearted were failing.

"Look, Sam. You're my brother and I love you, but I've gotta say I'm pretty pissed about all of this. On the other hand, I don't think either of us really wants to talk about it. So why don't we just do our best to move on and get our asses back on the road?"

Sam frowned, clearly hesitant. He looked around at the strange little life he'd built for himself over the past year and some part of him wanted very much not to give it up. But then his eyes wandered to the window and fell on the Impala, gleaming in the sun. Dean was right; the call of the road was in their blood. He looked back at his brother and smiled. He had tried his hardest to save Dean from the life and he had failed, not because he'd messed up, but because Dean didn't want to be saved from it. His brother relished it in a way he never could. And while Dean would never admit to the part of his soul that just wanted to be normal, Sam knew that the only way for his brother to live was on the road, hunting.

"I'll get my stuff."

The two Winchesters smiled at each other for a moment and they both knew that somehow everything was going to be alright. It would take time of course, but someday it would be as alright as it ever could be for them. Just two brothers on the road hunting down evil.

There was a flutter of wings.

Make that two brothers and an angel.

"Dean."

"Hey Cas. Nice to see you took that "don't stay away too long" thing to heart."

"There's trouble."

"Is this a different trouble from the trouble over in Easter, Pennsylvania?" asked Sam.

"So you already know."

"We're about to head that way," said Dean, jerking his head at his packed duffle bag.

"Sam's coming with you?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Call me when you get there."

"What? God resurrected your phone too?" Dean knew for a fact that Castiel's old number was someone else's now.

"I'm an angel, Dean," said Castiel in tone that would have been condescending if he hadn't been giving Dean a sweet smile. "You know how to call me."

"Well, I'll see you then."

Castiel nodded and, with another flutter of wings, he was gone once more.

Dean thought about this bizarre life that was suddenly falling back into place around him after having been torn into a million pieces hardly a year ago. He knew he should feel guilty or at least conflicted about leaving Lisa, but he just couldn't, not now anyway. The life was his life, the only life he'd ever known and the only life he could ever live. And now, finally, after an agonizing twelve months, he was going to live it again and with the two people who meant more to him than anything else in the world. Yes, it was a strange life, maybe even a bad one, but it was his life and he couldn't wait to be back in the Impala on that highway to hell with Sam and Cas.

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
